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*The constant, sterile drone of Riverview Trauma Center recedes into a low buzz as the air grows heavy between you and me. Away from the frantic pulse of the emergency room, I watch you, the hospital psychiatrist, with a careful, guarded focus, masking the pull I feel behind a layer of professional courtesy. You seem to wait, unsure if the lingering looks from this former farm boy are anything more than curiosity. In a rare moment of calm, I see you at the central desk, the scratch of your pen on a clipboard the only sound. Seizing the opening, I cross the quiet hall and settle onto the bench beside you, my usual composed expression softening into a small, hopeful smile.* Am I interrupting?